


Night Sweats

by MessOfCurls



Series: Wax and Wane [5]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Blow Jobs, Climbing Class, F/M, Hand Jobs, Lemon, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Or should that be BROjobs?, Oral Sex, Overactive Imagination, Pre-Game(s), Secret Crush, Smut, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:26:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5689273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessOfCurls/pseuds/MessOfCurls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh has an overactive imagination and an itch that needs scratching.</p><p>(see tags)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Sweats

**Author's Note:**

> Song rec:  
> Figure It Out - Royal Blood

Josh was a night owl, more at home in the glare of a computer monitor than west coast sunshine. He'd drifted off sometime after two when the texts and group chats wound down for the night, only to wake up dazed a few hours later, drenched in sweat, the duvet kicked off onto the floor. Bed sheet uncomfortably damp, he decided to shower rather than grin and bear it. At least that's what he'd had in mind when he padded the darkened corridor to the bathroom, t-shirt clinging to his skin. But it didn't explain his current state of undress - t-shirt discarded on the floor, shorts around his ankles - or the reason he'd stopped short of the shower to lean against the bathroom wall, splayed fingers working circles of deliberation into his abdomen.

Medication took care of his everyday needs and kept him ticking over, but, as with most aspects of his life, there were always sacrifices. Most of the time the greater good came at the cost: fatigue or lowered sex drive. It was a small price to pay to be able to face the day, and so he'd learned to take the hit.

But that wasn’t always the case.

When he’d woken up achingly hard it was something of a revelation, and with each step toward the bathroom he grew further distracted by the slowly building tension and often-dormant thoughts. One in particular played on his mind: unlike his bedroom, the bathroom had a lock.

He wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Quiet and alone. The tiles were cold against his back.

While other guys his age had hard drives full of porn, his own was filled with downloaded video editing software and half-finished projects. But nobody could say that Josh Washington lacked in imagination. He almost laughed.

High school was a bubbling cauldron of hormones and most of the girls - hell, even some of the faculty - were suitable candidates for his heated thoughts. Flicking through a mental catalogue, he assessed them, growing restless. An image of Dr North with her shirt half-unbuttoned came to mind, but he brushed it aside, disliking the baggage that came with that particular train of thought. There were so many girls… Jessica appeared, but that was too easy. It seemed cheap and just a little unsavoury, despite what many guys in their class had labelled a 'sweet ass'.

And then she arrived and the pages stilled. He paused uncertainly.

They had gone swimming together down at the beach. Other girls had been there, but he only had eyes for her. He remembered her, saw her now as he saw her then. Sam was tanned, but not in the unappealing shade of orange that veteran sun seekers aspired to. She was sun-kissed, cheeks and nose gold-dusted, hair thrown back in a lazy ponytail. Unlike many girls their age, she wore a one-piece, pale yellow in memory. She brushed sand from her feet, bending over slightly, and she’d laughed with that warm, generous smile entirely focused on him.

He was deadened back then, libido muted. But he was still a guy. He still saw her. He’d watched her grow up alongside him and witnessed the subtle transformation of their teenage years. The developing curves and lengthening limbs - tight and soft in all the right places - that he had chosen to ignore in the name of friendship. Sam was something grand and unattainable, a treasure beyond his means. She was warmth and sunshine.

But not now. Right now she was something else entirely, made sultry by the dim light, green eyes dark and a little dangerous. In his mind she moved with deliberate slowness until they were level.

He thought of tan lines, of soft pale skin hidden beneath thin, damp material. He could almost smell the faint aroma of suntan lotion. Wordlessly she guided his hand to the dip of her slender waist, letting it rest on her hip. It lingered there until, feeling bold, he slipped his hand down, running it over the smooth curve of her buttock. He squeezed and the need that had been slowly building flared red hot. Curious, tentative fingers slipped beneath the hem of her swimsuit, exposing cool, damp flesh. She leaned in close and murmured in a tone he’d only ever heard in his imagination.

_“Is this what you want, Josh?”_

Josh trailed fingers down his stomach and wrapped his hand around eager skin.

“Nn…Uh-huh....”

With one breast pressed against him, she blew away an errant strand of hair from her face, soft lips forming a perfect little pout as she did so. Sucking air in through his teeth, he tilted his head upward, eyes closing as he gave in to her ministrations, her touch slowly wringing long overdue and much needed relief from him.

A part of him felt bad for using her this way. She deserved to be more than the subject of his late night fantasy. But as he slowly lost himself in his own head, that part voiced its protest less frequently until it shut up altogether.

Soft lips traced ghost-like along the line of his neck as he slid down the strap of her swimsuit to fully expose her shoulder. Thoughts of picking her up, her legs neatly wrapping around him, and burying his face in her neck surfaced. Thoughts of what she’d look like spread out on a mattress, her hair loose about her, looking up at him with those eyes...

_“Hey, man.”_

Sam slowly…

_Wait._

_What?_

Something troubled the skin between Josh’s eyebrows. Eyes still shut, he realised that they weren't alone.

Chris was watching them, eyes flicking between Josh and Sam with an air of curious amusement about him. He was leaning nonchalantly against the sink, bundled up in clothes that took Josh away to the escape of colder climes. His breath steamed the air as he smiled, despite the lack of cold. _"This is something, huh?"_

Sam mmmed against Josh's neck, a vague sound akin to agreement, never stopping. But Josh looked past her. He wore a troubled, almost embarrassed expression, broken in places by Sam's busy hand. "Ah..." Feeble protest.

Chris pushed away from the sink and took a step forward. Josh looked down at Sam, but she'd gone, as if she'd never been there. His hand stilled.

The two boys were constantly vying to be tallest between growth spurts and long summers, but they were level-pegging for now. Chris was standing close, watching him intently. His eyes were bright behind clear lenses, warm and kind, but there was an unfamiliar edge to the way his friend regarded him that made Josh's pulse quicken.

 _"No kid gloves.”_ He said with a knowing look as he placed his middle finger between his teeth and pulled, the way Josh had seen him do it a hundred times before when they came in from the cold. He let the glove drop to the floor and busied himself with the other, _“We said no kid gloves, remember?"_

"Wha... what?"

 _"It's okay. Really."_ He said with a reassuring nod. Josh's breath caught in his throat as Chris took him in his hand. _"Just say what you need, bro."_ Said in the same casual way he'd offer him a soda or a ride to school, or any other number of favours he'd do without a thought of repayment.

Still, Josh hesitated, too worked up to think straight and a grain of conflict worrying him.

Chris shrugged, wearing that ever-present smile, _"Just go with it."_

A few slow deliberate strokes and any remaining protest died in his throat. Josh pressed his head back against the tiles. "Okay... okay..." His voice came out as little more than a breathless whisper with each exhale, shallow in his chest.

Though he was ashamed to admit it, Sam was often the one to lend a hand whenever this particular itch needed scratching. There was something about her, how generously she gave him her time and affection, that made it easy to think of her in that way. But this was… this was new. He wasn’t a stranger to Chris’s touch. Barely a day went by when the blonde didn’t pull him into a hug or sling an arm around his shoulders. Josh wasn't special in that regard. Chris was the same way with everyone, he was a touchy-feely kind of guy, though Josh was the most frequent recipient of such affection. No, this was different. No matter how he tried to justify it, this was definitely different. Thinking about him this way didn’t feel wrong, exactly.

_Different._

_"How are you holding up?"_

Josh's brow furrowed distractedly, "Nnhuh?" With a slow drag of his hand, Josh's hips bucked and he tried and failed to stifle a moan. "Yeah..." He managed finally.

 _"Good."_ Chris said through a breath of laughter, looking more than a little smug. _"Thought I'd lost you there."_

And then it seemed that the time for talking was over.

Eye to eye, the blonde's breath smoked the air between them as he watched the brunette and mirrored the subtle, uncertain movements of Josh’s mouth, lips parted. There was a hunger there, slow burning yet unmistakable. As if knowing Josh’s thoughts, the corners of Chris’s mouth turned up and he flashed a brief smile, feral at the edges.

Succumbing to the urge, he pushed Chris’s glasses up into his hair. He wanted him closer, to see him better. He wanted--

The palm pressed against Chris’s chest became a fist as Josh gripped the collar of his coat, pulling him closer. The tips of their noses brushed together, lips almost touching, followed by Chris’s forehead pressing against his own. Fuck, he was wound up so tightly, tension marking every inch of him.

He wanted more.

Chris’s breath was hot against his ear, cheek against his own, their close proximity quickening his hand. _“Just take what you need.”_ he murmured, coaxing a stifled sound from the brunette.

Chris pulled back and the hand gripping his coat settled on his shoulder. Josh squeezed it firmly, pushing down with barely restrained insistence. Understanding coloured Chris’s face. _“Yeah?”_ Slight, vigorous nods were all the answer Josh could muster as the blonde went to his knees, sneakers squeaking against the tile as he shifted his legs.

A sharp hiss from Josh marked the gradual transition from hand to mouth. Steadying himself against the wall, palm spread, he dared to look down. Chris’s eyes were closed in quiet concentration, breath tickling the skin below his navel, his hand gripping Josh’s bare thigh to support himself.

He hurriedly removed the glasses perched on Chris’s head and carelessly dropped them to the floor, desperate to touch him. Fingers brushed repeatedly through blonde hair and found a firm, possessive grip just shy of his neck. A soft moan hummed around him and Josh’s hand became more insistent, guiding the blonde with a little more urgency. Biting his lip, he turned Chris’s head slightly and the changed angle made him glad for the wall behind him.

_Fuck…_

“Chr… I’m…” his words had a pleading edge to them.

At the sound of his voice, Chris looked up and met his gaze. One glance was all it took. Josh came, a string of curse words tumbling from his lips in a breathless rush, trailing off to whispers.

It took a long moment, but gradually Josh surfaced, breathless and alone. He winced, scalp throbbing as he unclenched his fist, tight in his own hair. He could taste metal. Blood. Still getting his head together, he stepped out of his shorts and picked up the discarded t-shirt, idly wiping his hands and cleaning himself up, his mind elsewhere. The enormity of what he’d done and who he’d imagined while doing it was slowly dawning on him.

_Fuck._

_What the actual fuck?_

He unceremoniously dumped the t-shirt into the laundry hamper.

But it was okay, right? Just one of those things. It didn’t _mean_ anything, just like his thoughts about Sam didn’t really mean anything. His sexuality had never been an issue for him in the past, and the same was true now. But Chris? That felt like something else. It wasn’t just a person, just some guy. It was _Chris_.

_It doesn’t have to be something big._

Standing before the mirror, both hands gripping the edge of the sink, he regarded his reflection with growing unease. His bottom lip was bleeding. He couldn't recall the pain of it at the time, but he could confidently guess when it had happened. It was already beginning to swell. How was he going to explain _that?_ Something to tell the shrink, maybe? Maybe not.

_What the hell is wrong with you?_

Those familiar words.

Skin reddening under the near-scalding heat of the shower, he closed his eyes and tried to wash away the unsettling thoughts that would keep sleep at bay.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [@messofcurls-creative](https://messofcurls-creative.tumblr.com/)


End file.
